


General Response

by sunstarunicorn



Series: It's a Magical Flashpoint [5]
Category: Flashpoint (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family Drama, Family Secrets, Gen, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-18 19:21:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9399245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunstarunicorn/pseuds/sunstarunicorn
Summary: In the wake of Alanna’s kidnapping, General Braddock discovers his son is once again involved in the magical world.  When the General arrives at SRU Headquarters to interfere in his son’s life, he uncovers another secret Sam’s been hiding from him.  And what does Madame Locksley have to do with all of this?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the fifth in the Magical Flashpoint series. It follows “Phoenix Aligned”.
> 
> Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own _Flashpoint_ , _Harry Potter_ , _Narnia_ , or _Merlin_.

“I have informed JFT2’s boot camp to expect you for re-training next week,” the General told his son.

“No, sir,” his son refused. “I’m making a difference here…on _both_ sides of the fence.”

The General’s head snapped around to focus on his son. “Excuse me?” Warning and threat dripped from his ice-cold words.

His son set his feet and shoulders, chin tilting up. “I will not re-enlist, _sir_. I’m a member of the Strategic Response Unit now and I refuse to run out on my team.”

He managed to keep still as his father strode right up to him, leaning into his personal space. “You think you’re making a difference in the _magical_ world?” his father demanded in a soft, dangerous tone.

“Enough!” came from the doorway before the son could respond. The General’s attention swung to the stocky Sergeant glaring at him. Behind the Sergeant, the rest of his son’s pathetic excuse for a team gathered, giving him angry looks. Two children stood in front of the Sergeant; his hands were on their shoulders, holding them back from launching at him. For a moment, the General’s eyes narrowed at the suspicious glimmer around the pair.

But the General’s attention soon latched onto a woman who stood next to the Sergeant. Dark gray eyes bored into him and the woman gave him a stern look. “Leave my Auror alone,” she hissed.

General Braddock’s eyes went wide. “What are _you_ doing here?”


	2. Family Magic

_3 hours earlier_

“How’d it go?” Wordy asked, looking up from the inevitable paperwork as Sarge came in, looking annoyed and worn.

Sarge shot Wordy a ‘do-shut-up’ look and sank into one of the briefing room chairs with a heavy sigh. _Ouch…good thing today’s been quiet so far._

“Oohhh…” Jules drawled from the opposite side of the table. “That good, eh?”

Sarge folded his arms on the briefing table and dropped his head onto them. A muffled, “Thank you, Constable Callaghan,” emerged from the slumped man.

Ed clapped the Sarge on the shoulder. “Now you know how Wordy and I feel when _our_ kids have trouble,” he teased.

Sarge groaned, head coming back up. “Clark ever have a teacher out for his blood because of something _you_ did, Ed?”

Whistles went around the room. “What’d _you_ do, Boss?” Lou asked, eyebrows shooting up.

The stocky Sergeant shook his head. “Well, apparently, insisting that a teacher teach kids their family _talents_ means the teacher has _carte blanche_ to grade the kids as harshly as possible and snipe at the kids in class.” Team One obliged their Sergeant with a host of disbelieving noises.

“So?” Ed asked, “like Wordy said: How’d it go?”

“The Deputy Headmistress gave him a warning.”

“That’s it?” Sam demanded.

“Yep,” Sarge confirmed. “And I’ve been informed that Professor Ellroy has the ‘full support of the administration’ to conduct his class as he sees fit.”

“So what now?” Wordy asked, his expression just as disbelieving as the rest of the team.

“Haven’t figured that out yet,” Sarge admitted, frustration coloring his tone. “I can go to the Headmaster, but after that…” he sighed, “…any other type of school and I could move them to another school, complain to the Ministry of Education…”

“Why can’t you?” Ed put in.

Sarge arched a brow and Wordy elaborated, “Why can’t you go to the Ministry of Education?”

“And say what to them? That my _nipotes_ aren’t being taught their _unique_ talents?”

Sam grinned; he’d figured out what Ed and Wordy were driving at. “You could say that to the _other_ Ministry of Education,” he suggested. “I bet they’d be even more impressed if you took your _other_ badge along.” Snickers of agreement rose from his teammates.

Spike tilted his head, curiosity written across his face. “Why’s this guy throwing such a fit, anyway? Isn’t teaching his job?”

All of Team One looked at their Sergeant; his expression turned a touch trapped at the scrutiny. With an exaggerated groan, he hefted himself out of the chair, walked to the door, and tapped the controls to lower the barrier. As the steel barrier lowered, Sarge paced at the head of the table, brow furrowed in thought.

By this time, Team One had all but abandoned their paperwork; Wordy found himself wondering if they were about to find out how the kids had pulled off a few of their more…impossible…tricks.

Sarge came to a halt and turned toward Wordy. “Remember what happened right after the training debacle?”

“Sure, Sarge,” Wordy confirmed.

“What about it?” Spike asked. “I mean, wasn’t that what those healer guys would have done anyway?”

“No, Spike, it wasn’t,” Wordy corrected. “I knew, Sarge knew, I’d be looking at weeks of recovery; I might have even lost my spot on the team.”

Gasps ran around the room; even Ed, who was Wordy’s best friend, hadn’t known it had been that bad.

Wordy shrugged as he kept going, “Even when I got better, I would have had a scar from that one curse the rest of my life; they told me that right after they got me stabilized and conscious again.” Silence hung in the air, mixed with shock. “Then the kids charged in and, hey, presto, I’m pretty much just fine.”

“And Locksley freaked,” Sam drawled.

“Yep,” Wordy agreed.

“And here I thought it was us,” Lou remarked.

“So what’d the kids do?” Spike queried, attention turning to Sarge.

Sarge’s smile just about lit the room. “That was their family magic, Spike.”

Brows went up as the team absorbed that.

“Oh, oh, oh,” Jules bounced and waved a hand. “What about the shield Alanna used when she was kidnapped?”

“Yes, Jules, that was family magic too,” Sarge agreed.

“But the kids didn’t use any spells when they healed Wordy,” Sam protested. “They just latched on and that light stuff appeared.”

Jules cut in again, “Unless Alanna was casting outside,” she arched a brow at Sarge, who shook his head no, “she didn’t cast anything when her magic snuck back inside and shielded me.”

Sam’s whistle was low and long. “Sarge, that’s pretty impressive. Wandless magic is supposed to be tricky, elite stuff; not something kids still in school can do.”

“What about silent casting…or is it the same?” Lou asked, attention on their magic expert.

Sam’s expression turned thoughtful. “I don’t think it is the same, Lou,” he admitted. “But we’re kinda getting out of my knowledge level anyway; I didn’t think magicals used anything except Latin for spells. That shield thing Alanna used definitely _wasn’t_ Latin.”

Curious looks were directed in Sarge’s direction, but he didn’t directly confirm or deny Sam’s remarks. “I’ve seen the family grimoire,” he said quietly. “And the kids filled me in as much as they could about the family history. Their father made sure several family books were packed the night of the fire.”

Wordy translated that to mean that Sarge had a pretty good idea of what the family history and magic was, but was keeping it mostly quiet for now, even from Team One. “So, because their magic is different, this professor guy is having trouble teaching them?” he asked, bringing them back on topic.

“Yes, Wordy,” Sarge confirmed. “He’s also angry because the kids can do several of the spells that he hasn’t been able to manage yet.”

“Are they taunting him or something?” was Ed’s question.

“They wouldn’t,” Spike protested.

“As far as I know, no, they are not taunting their professor. And if they had, I suspect I would have heard about it today,” Sarge pointed out.

“Sarge?”

“Yes, Jules?”

“What about that phoenix thing we saw at Duglin’s house?” Jules asked tentatively.

Sarge’s shrug was helpless. “That I don’t know about, Jules,” he confessed. “If the family had any information about that, it was lost in the fire, I’m afraid.”

He might have said more, but the door barrier abruptly began to retract; prompting the team to return their attention to their neglected paperwork as if they’d been working on it the entire time. Sarge moved over to Lou, peering over his shoulder and pretending to point something out. An extremely amused blonde entered the room, surveying the ‘industrious’ Team One. “If you and your team have a moment, Sergeant?” she inquired, lips twitching at the speed with which Team One abandoned their paperwork again.

“Madame Locksley,” Sarge greeted. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“I thought I would arrange a few things in person, particularly after the floo call I received this afternoon about a ‘Muggle’ trying to interfere at the Toronto School of Magic.”

Team One glanced between their Sergeant and Madame Locksley, the former of whom had his negotiator mask firmly in place and the latter of whom looked amused. Rather than wait for any explosions, Locksley went on, “Sergeant Parker, I informed the Deputy Headmistress that you have the same rights as any parent or guardian concerning the schooling of your minor children. Furthermore, I expressed my dismay that _any_ professor would be unprofessional enough to discriminate against a student based on their family or background.” Locksley smiled at the surprise on her official/unofficial subordinate’s face. “I suggest that if you or your charges are given any more…I believe the word is ‘guff’…you show them your Auror badge and refer them to me as your superior.”

Her smile widened at the gratitude on Parker’s face. Though she personally was uncomfortable with the Calvin siblings’ _unique_ magic, that was no reason to treat them differently from any other witch or wizard. And it wouldn’t do to let ‘her’ Muggle Aurors figure out she was afraid of the teens; no that would not do at all.


	3. General Descent

General Braddock had not reached his rank or station in life by being unobservant. In many ways, the military had saved his life after his banishment from the world he’d grown up in. It had given him a purpose, a job, even a family. As such, his loyalty to the military and the _regular_ world was absolute; above even his loyalty to wife and children.

That was why it had been such a slap in the face when Samuel had left JTF2 so abruptly. To leave without asking _him_ , to run away after the death of a teammate, a death _Samuel_ had caused, it was shameful to the proud general. Then he found out _why_. His rage at the offending wizards who had attacked and nearly _killed_ his son had sent junior officers within a fifty meter radius scurrying for cover. And what Matt’s wizard brother had told him…it was unfathomable…impossible to believe. In fact, he had _not_ believed it, not until he’d arranged to have several records pulled and examined. Once he’d examined the records, he’d become determined to extricate his son from this latest _mess_ …and a team the General now had no respect for at all.

The General entered the Strategic Response Unit’s headquarters with a snap to his stride and a grim, closed expression. The blond hair his son had inherited was trimmed close in the traditional military cut and going gray around the edges. In looks, he was close to his son, though a bit more weathered, older, and with more frown lines. Even though he had come to speak to his son, he wore his uniform and carried his cover. He marched to the dispatcher’s desk, his hard, cold blue eyes locking on the petite woman behind the desk. “I would like to speak to Samuel Braddock.” Though phased as a request, it was more of an order and the woman behind the desk knew it.

“Team One is currently in the briefing room, sir. Shall I tell Constable Braddock you’ve arrived Mister…?”

“Inform my son that I expect his presence in five minutes,” _or less_ went unspoken.

The dispatcher looked taken aback at the demand, but rallied admirably. “Certainly, sir.” She gestured to a row of chairs. “Would you like to take a seat while I inform Constable Braddock?”

General Braddock cast her a glare, speaking in a clipped tone. “I will stand, thank you.”

* * * * *

Sam stood in perfect military stance, waiting for his father. The Boss had suggested that it might be better if the two men spoke in private. Sam would have liked to argue, but he knew the General’s rants were never pleasant to witness and would only be worse with his team trying to defend him. So Sam waited alone, eyes fixed on the door. As the General entered, Sam snapped him a salute and held the position.

The General paused, studying his son. “At ease,” he rumbled.

Sam let his hand fall back to his side, but held his stance; well aware his father expected it. “Thank you, sir.” Such was expected of him, had been almost all his life.

The General’s gaze was uneasy and mixed with an emotion Sam could not recognize. “I spoke with your unit’s handlers,” he announced.

Sam cringed, he couldn’t help it. “I’m sure they had plenty to say about me,” he replied, his words toneless.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” his father demanded, anger mixing with the unknown emotion.

Sam struggled to keep his eyes fixed on his father instead of dropping them to the floor. “What difference would it have made?” he asked. “I was already out; on my way here.”

“I could have reversed your discharge, moved you to another unit,” came the furious hiss.

Sam rocked back on his heels as he realized his father was, for once, angry _for_ him, not _at_ him. “Sir.” He waited until his father’s eyes cleared a bit. “I _was_ angry at them,” Sam admitted. “But staying after Matt died…I couldn’t have done it.” Despite the likely consequences, he looked away. “I’m happy here, sir.”

“You are…happy…here.” Now the General’s anger was turning toward his son. “You are happy…being an errand boy for _wizards_.”

Sam’s head snapped around in shock; he hadn’t thought his father had found out about _that_. “I’m not,” he said without thinking.

General Braddock sneered. “Your _team_ jumps at the whim of wizards and you are _happy_.” He shook his head. “I did not raise you to bow to _their_ ilk. It was bad enough that you were part of that unit; serving the same pureblood scum that sees us as lesser…as _Squibs_. But now,” his snort was pure disdain, “your _new_ team scurries and scrapes; begging for whatever _scraps_ the purebloods see fit to give you.”

Sam growled. “We _don’t_ bow to them,” he insisted. “We showed them what we can do; we _beat_ them at their own game.”

The General’s expression showed his opinion on the likelihood of _that_. He turned away, head rising as he finally arrived at his true reason for visiting his son. “I’ve arranged to have you re-enlist. Prior incidents will not affect your record; I made that very clear to your former handlers. I have informed JFT2’s boot camp to expect you for re-training next week.”

“No, sir,” his son refused. “I’m making a difference here…on _both_ sides of the fence.”

The General’s head snapped around to focus on his son. “Excuse me?” Warning and threat dripped from his ice-cold words.

Sam set his feet and shoulders, chin tilting up. “I will not re-enlist, _sir_. I’m a member of the Strategic Response Unit now and I refuse to run out on my team.”

He managed to keep still as his father strode right up to him, leaning into his personal space. “You think you’re making a difference in the _magical_ world?” his father demanded in a soft, dangerous tone.

“Enough!” came from the doorway before Sam could respond. The General’s attention swung to the stocky Sergeant glaring at him. Behind the Sergeant, the rest of his son’s pathetic excuse for a team gathered, giving him angry looks. Two children stood in front of the Sergeant; his hands were on their shoulders, holding them back from launching at him. For a moment, the General’s eyes narrowed at the suspicious glimmer around the pair.

But the General’s attention soon latched onto a woman who stood next to the Sergeant. Dark gray eyes bored into him and the woman gave him a stern look. “Leave my Auror alone,” she hissed.

General Braddock’s eyes went wide. “What are _you_ doing here?”


	4. Braddocks and Locksleys

Madame Locksley arched a brow at General Braddock, utterly unconcerned by his hostility. Greg’s grip on his _nipotes_ tightened; he didn’t need them escalating things by attacking Sam’s father. Behind him, he could hear his team’s muttered astonishment that Sam had turned out halfway decent with such a father.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Locksley remarked, her voice both determined and sad.

Braddock sneered at her. “I wouldn’t have thought _you_ would lower yourself enough to mingle with _Muggles_ and _Squibs_.”

Locksley shook her head slowly. “Perhaps I’ve changed since we last met.” She studied Braddock, her expression turning even sadder. “I never agreed with what happened back then; I looked for you afterwards,” she whispered.

Twin gasps came from the kids as they looked between the General and Locksley. Greg himself was beginning to get a sneaking suspicion; Sam’s eyes were wide behind his father’s back. General Braddock looked between Locksley and his son; then he recoiled. “Auror?” he demanded loudly. “You called my son your Auror?”

Madame Locksley paused a moment, studying both Braddocks. “Yes, I did.”

“You have my son risking his life to protect _your kind_?”

“My kind? My kind?” Locksley’s voice rose. “You forget, my kind is also your kind,” she snapped. “And your son agreed to become an Auror. As did the rest of his team.”

“Not anymore,” Braddock snarled. “I left your kind behind years ago and _never_ looked back. I have a wife, a family, and I will _not_ let you have my son.”

“It’s not your choice, _sir_ ,” Sam remarked, voice level. “Any more than it was your choice when I chose to join my JTF2 unit.”

Braddock wheeled on his son. “Have you learned _nothing_ , boy? She doesn’t care about you, or your foolish teammates. Stay here and you’ll die at the hands of wizards who see you as nothing more than a _Squib_.”

“I see him as far more than that,” Locksley protested. “ _Auror_ Braddock is a good man, one whom I am proud to know.” There was a long pause and then she added firmly, “You may have forgotten _us_ and left us behind, but I never forgot you…brother.”

* * * * *

Sam froze in shock at one word: brother. His father didn’t deny it; he merely set his shoulders, glaring at Madame Locksley. “Is that true?” Sam barely recognized his own voice. “Is she your…” He trailed off as his father’s anger turned to him.

“When I was young,” Madame Locksley said softly, drawing attention back to her, “I had an older brother.” Tears glinted in her eyes. “I looked up to him, followed him around, wanted to be just like him. He was my brother, I didn’t know any different.” The Boss freed one hand from the kids to rest it on Locksley’s shoulder, squeezing. The kids no longer tried to get away from their uncle, following the confrontation as if it was a tennis match.

The General laughed bitterly. “Didn’t change anything, did it? You still abandoned me, you all abandoned me.”

“I was _eight_ ,” Locksley burst out. Sam sucked in a breath at that tidbit. “After I turned seventeen, I searched for you. I even hired a Muggle private investigator, but he never found anything.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “I joined the Aurors, worked my way up, and I _never_ gave up. Every so often, I’d send out a different private investigator; none of them ever found you.”

Sam gaped as his father sneered again. “As if I _wanted_ to be found. You people took everything from me, left me penniless and homeless. I shook the dust of _your_ world from my boots and never looked back.”

“And what about us?” Sam asked, “Shouldn’t my sisters and I have gotten the chance to meet our Aunt? Our family?” He trembled as the full weight of his father’s fury fell on him.

“Why would I do that?” Braddock snapped. “We were better off without them; better off without magic.” He glared at his son. “You saw in the military that wizards can’t be trusted. Why you would be willing to subject yourself to that again escapes me.”

The Boss intervened, voice gentle. “Constable Braddock was not informed about our team’s involvement with the magical world when he first joined the team.”

General Braddock whirled on Sergeant Parker. “You were involved with magic before my son’s arrival?”

“Yes, we were,” the Boss confirmed. He met the General’s angry look with a calm expression. “Constable Braddock’s knowledge of the magical world has been an invaluable resource as we’ve continued to work with Madame Locksley and her Aurors.”

Madame Locksley snorted. “I’m afraid my brother won’t be impressed with that, Auror Sergeant Parker. Even when we were little, he had far too much of our parents’ rigidity and narrow-mindedness.” Sorrow and loss mixed with a touch of bitterness in her voice and she focused on her brother. “You may hate the world you were born in, brother, but your son does not.”

“I taught him just what your kind is capable of,” Braddock growled. “Why he’s chosen to forget that…” Behind him, Sam winced.

“And I admit I treated him…all of them…badly at first,” Madame Locksley continued, ignoring her brother’s sneer. “I acted just as our parents would have.” She smiled wryly and added the punch line. “Then they trounced my best squad of Aurors so badly, my Aurors lost their tempers and played dirty. Your son’s, _my nephew’s_ , team still won.”

“I should be impressed because my son can beat a wizard at his own game?”

“We did a heck of a lot more than that,” Wordy remarked from the background, arms crossed as he surveyed Sam’s ranting father. Sam cringed, anticipating the results of his father’s temper.

General Braddock did not disappoint, his almost lethal glare shifted to Wordy. “I suppose you think the magical world is full of wonder, worth begging for scraps from.”

“They don’t beg!” Alanna burst out. “They protect people.” Sam opened his mouth to intervene, but both teens’ magic swirled around them, making it clear to the General just _who_ had initially introduced Team One to magic.

His eyes narrowed. “You mean to tell me, Samuel, that you’ve accepted magic simply because two snot-nosed _brats_ asked you to?”

Ed and Wordy had to grab and haul the Boss away from General Braddock to prevent the stocky Sergeant from introducing the General to his right hook.


	5. Family By Choice

Alanna drew back, shocked at the venom in the voice of Sam’s father. He glared at her and her brother and if their family hadn’t been there, she had no doubt the angry man would have attacked them. Lance’s shoulders bunched and he moved so he was between her and the venomous man. “If you insult my sister again, you’ll regret it,” he hissed.

Madame Locksley intervened before General Braddock could react. “If you think two _children_ could force your son into anything, you obviously don’t know your son at all. In fact, I’d say your son understands our world far more than you ever did. Simply because, unlike _you_ , your son took the time to listen rather than simply reacting to first impressions.”

Sam spoke up as soon as Madame Locksley finished speaking. “I met the kids months before they even told me about their magic, _sir_ , and I never would have guessed they had magic if they hadn’t told me.”

“How nice of them, hiding their… _unnaturalness_ …from regular people,” the General drawled. Behind Uncle Greg, several Team One members growled. “Please, do tell me Samuel, how do you expect to be an Auror without _magic_?”

Sam stiffened at the implied insults, but he answered calmly. “Madame Locksley has arranged for Team One’s body-armor and shields to be improved. That way we don’t have to worry as much about curses. The Boss talked Commander Holleran into getting EMP-proof radios and we’re working on solutions for our phones and computer equipment. We’re going to take magical criminals down just like we take tech criminals down.”

General Braddock stared at his son, incredulous. “You think you stand a chance against wizards with no magic of your own?” he demanded. Without waiting for a reply, he spun toward the Calvin siblings. “Tell me, is this your idea of fun? To watch the poor, pathetic Muggles and Squibs struggle against those with magic?”

Uncle Greg moved, stepping between the angry man and the teens. “We’ve _already_ taken down several magical criminals,” he said grimly. “Kindly stop your insults toward _mio nipotes_. My nephew is very intolerant of threats to his sister, especially after the events of last week.” Alanna watched as the General actually took a step back at the look on her uncle’s face. Her brother wasn’t the only one being overprotective in the wake of the week before.

The General’s attention shifted to his more common target. “I suppose you would rather stay here, catering to the whims of _pureblood_ brats and their magic-loving supporters.”

“We can make a difference, sir. Boss said it: we’ve already saved lives, both magical and tech, by working with the Auror Division.” Sam hesitated, then added quietly, “It’s not about making the shot; it’s about saving lives.”

“What kind of drivel is that?” General Braddock demanded, stepping closer to his son. “Now, I’m going to say this _one_ more time Samuel Braddock. You’re going to come back to JTF2, where you can make a _real_ difference. You’re going to forget all these delusions of working with wizards and earning respect from _pureblood_ brats and bigots. You will never come near the magical world again. Is. That. Clear?”

Alanna cringed at the man’s demands and tone. She traded a desperate look with her brother; they couldn’t lose Sam. Not to a man whose ideals so closely matched the very bigots he claimed to hate. He hated the magical world just as the bigots hated the tech world. But he was Sam’s father, they couldn’t hope to compete with _that_. Family was family after all. The girl blinked hard, refusing to let any tears come. She’d miss Sam, they all would, but they’d get over it. Lance pulled her close and whispered, “Have faith, sis. I don’t think Sam’s going anywhere.”

“But…” she managed.

“No, sir.” Sam’s voice rang out in the almost silent room. His face was pale and Alanna could see something that looked like grief in his eyes.

General Braddock closed with his son, towering over him. “Say that again,” he hissed.

Uncle Greg shifted, moving himself and the teens out of the doorway and giving Uncle Ed and Uncle Wordy a clear shot at the General if such was needed.

Sam flinched, but his voice was steady. “I’m not going back to JTF2, sir. I’m staying here.”

“No son of mine is going to work with _wizards_ ,” General Braddock spat. He reared back, angling for a sucker punch and two blurs shot by the teens and their uncle. Uncle Wordy and Uncle Ed hauled General Braddock away from his son; the General coloring the air as he was dragged away.

Alanna slipped around her brother and uncle, making a beeline for a lost looking Sam. “Are you okay, Uncle Sam?” she asked as she wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged as hard as she could.

Uncle Sam’s expression turned startled and he hugged her back, at first automatically, then she was pulled up off the ground with the force of his responding hug. “Thanks, kiddo.”

“Sam?” Uncle Greg queried, moving closer.

“Was going to happen sometime, Boss,” Uncle Sam managed. “He hates magic; Mom’s afraid of it. I knew he’d overreact when he found out we were working with the Aurors, just didn’t realize how badly.”

“He’s still your family,” Alanna pointed out, not sure why she had. Maybe she just wanted to know why Uncle Sam had chosen to stay.

Uncle Sam let her down and looked her in the eye. “Yeah, he’s my family, ‘Lanna. But right now, I don’t like him very much.” He looked around at his teammates…his friends. “I’d rather have friends willing to back me up, no matter what, than a family that only accepts me when I live my life _their_ way.”

“Copy that,” Uncle Greg murmured.

* * * * *

Being genetically related  
doesn’t make you family.  
Love, support,  
trust, sacrifice,  
honesty, protection,  
acceptance, security,  
compromise, gratitude,  
respect & loyalty  
is what makes you _family  
~Unknown_

 

_~ Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! I hope everyone enjoyed, but to be quite honest, I have no idea if _anyone_ enjoyed, because I don't seem to be getting all that many comments. Now, I'm not going to be petty and say I won't post because no one commented, but I confess, I am a bit disappointed that I'm not getting much feedback. I happen to be the only _Flashpoint_ fan in my Real Life circle of friends and family, so none of my family/friends can really say, 'You're doing x thing wrong' or 'y character doesn't act like that'.
> 
> Anyway, moving on: For those who _are_ enjoying, I do hope you'll join me on Friday, February 3rd, 2017 as I kick off "The Ghost of Failures Past".


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